A Day Late
by Aubreys-Master
Summary: Sequel to A Step Shy. Love has twisted into something darker, and in its wake, ObiWan finds himself regretting his decisions. But as ObiWan tries to reform, he finds Anakin slipping farther away than ever. Warning: Drug abuse, triggering content.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: We don't own Star Wars.

Acknowldgments: Sequel to A Step Shy. Co written with Diena Taylor.

Warnings: Drug abuse, suicidal beavior, triggering content, slash, implied underage, etc.

Aubrey's crap: When I originally came up with the idea of A Step Shy, it was meant to be a one-shot. But then I realized that the story had far outgrown the content that I had for it, so I went and found CaideSin, and talked her into redoing it with me. (Thus the story you know and love. Which I highly reccomend you read, if you haven't, before proceeding onward.) Even after that, I never meant to write a sequel. But, then I sat down and started writing, and once again the story's potential had far exceeded the limits that I had set for it. So, I brought Diena into the picture. I think this installment might actually be more mature than the last one! No, it definitely is. In any event, without further delay, I present to you the next part of the saga...

* * *

A Day Late

_Prologue_

°°°

Anakin can't breathe. He can barely see. A cold, fevered sweat has broken out over his forehead, and his remaining hand is clammy. His tunics stick to his back and chest, and his knees feel like jelly.

He stumbles forward, and collapses into strong arms. The arms are shaking, but Anakin knows that it's from fear, not because he's too heavy. Obi-Wan is terrified, and that makes Anakin's panic all the greater. What could be so horrible that even Obi-Wan is scared?

The pain is blinding. Anakin can't feel his fingers or feet. He looks up at Obi-Wan, imploring rescue from his agony. But all he sees is the darkness, wrapping around his vision – his mind. His lungs stop even their rapid, short panting. His heart is a knife in his chest, stabbing him in rhythm. Ka-thunk. Ka-thunk. Ka-thunk.

But the stabs are coming more and more slowly, and the darkness is eating him alive. Through the cotton in his ears he hears Obi-Wan calling for help, desperately. The dark side is a frigid river, and it's pulling Anakin away from his beloved, one atom at a time. The current is strong, and Anakin Skywalker finds himself dissolving into the abyss.

* * *

Continued in Chapter One.  



	2. Chapter One

Disclaimer: We don't own Star Wars.

Acknowledgments: Written with Diena Taylor. Sequel to A Step Shy (written with CaideSin.)

Aubrey's crap: I've decided to update this story on Thursdays, for now. Can't guarentee when on Thursday, but I'll do my best to get it up every week. (Things might get kind of crazy, once school starts, but I'll still try.) The chapters are kind of short, but I'm measuring them by where I think they need to stop, not by page. The whole fic's written, it's just being edited right now. Please enjoy chapter one.

* * *

_A Day Late  
Chapter One_

* * *

"Please…please…Master…?" 

"Anakin, we've been over this a thousand times. No. Not when we have company."

"But…it's so _hard_!"

"Anakin, Master Windu is just in the 'fresher. No."

Anakin offered his Master the most pitiful expression he could muster, and reached out, tugging his Master's hand over toward him. Obi-Wan sighed, feeling exasperated, and rested his chin in his free hand while Anakin's prosthetic guided the other over toward himself. The boy laid it across his own left limb, and Obi-Wan felt the contrasting smoothness of scars and rough scabs under his fingers. He even felt a couple canyons in Anakin's arm, where the cuts hadn't healed yet. He looked up at his apprentice, raising an eyebrow.

"You've been trying to do it on your own." He stated, no confusion in his mind. It was obvious what Anakin had attempted. It made Obi-Wan feel sick. It was one form of twisted when their horrid tradition was a shared pain, but another entirely when the boy did such things to himself.

"It's not the same." Anakin admitted dully, pulling his mutilated arm away from Obi-Wan's and reaching into his robe's pocket to withdraw something. "That's like saying masturbation is as good as sex. It's not. That's why I really…need you to…" He slipped a smooth, cool object into Obi-Wan's hand, meeting his gaze desperately. Obi-Wan considered, for a moment, refusing. But he couldn't refuse Anakin. Not when he got like this.

He'd done this to Anakin. He'd gotten him addicted to pain, and made a masochist out of his beloved Padawan. He'd fed such an illness to his Annie on a silver platter, and now he had a habit that was his responsibility alone to support.

So, he gave the 'fresher door a brief look, before turning back to Anakin and, sensually, dipping into the skin. The movement was as smooth as honey, and it left a creamy trail of blood in its wake. Anakin whimpered happily, and Obi-Wan felt sicker with both of them than ever.

The 'fresher door slid open, and Anakin yanked down his sleeve as he turned to look attentively at Mace Windu. Obi-Wan watched his apprentice out of the corner of his eyes, his heart heavy at the look of purely bliss in the younger man's eyes.

"I thank you for the meal," Windu said, bowing slightly to them. "It was good to catch up with you, Master Kenobi," he eyed Anakin for a moment. "With both of you." He straightened. "I will see you again soon, I'm sure." Windu turned on his heels, with that, and showed himself out.

Anakin snorted. "Not like we don't live in the same place," he commented lightly, rolling his sleeve back up. He turned towards Obi-Wan, his eyes pleading, and he held his arm out again.

"No," Obi-Wan tried to sound decisive. "That's enough for today."

Anakin's lips pursed, but he didn't argue for the moment. He would get Obi-Wan comfortable, later, and raise his appeal then. After all, he knew his lover couldn't resist him for long…Anakin suffered from a similar fault, too…

"Yes, Master," he muttered obligingly.

Obi-Wan put his arms around Anakin's shoulders, and allowed himself to relax as Anakin leaned against him. He knew Anakin would ask again – he always did – but for now…they could sit quietly, and just be together.

--

The holographers were beginning to drive him a little crazy. Anakin wasn't sure he could take one more camera being shoved in his face – one more NewsNet reporter asking one more question. Obi-Wan, for his part, looked completely calm and collected; Anakin, on the other hand, felt like he was being torn in two.

This HoloNet persona – the Hero With No Fear – and Anakin were two beings that simply did not gel together. At first, he had liked the attention. That was before the nickname. Now he had something to live up to, and it was something he knew he could never be.

For Anakin was afraid; and every night he went to Obi-Wan to quell his fear.

But, he couldn't do that now. He could feel his lungs constricting, and he had to fist his hands at his side, to not punch the reporter who made the mistake of entering his personal space. He took a few steps away, all but cowering, nervously, at Obi-Wan's flank. He wanted to get through the damn crowd, go home, and have the love of his life slice him open _right then_!

Obi-Wan seemed to sense his distress because, through his haze of panic, he felt a hand wrap around the flesh portion of his right arm, and guide him away from the reporter with a polite, "Please, excuse us."

"Are you alright?" Obi-Wan asked, once they were safely away from the throng. "You're trembling."

Anakin wrapped his arms around himself and bowed his head. "I'm fine, Master," he managed. "I just need…" He looked up, need shining in his blue eyes. Obi-Wan offered him a sharp look, and Anakin knitted his eyebrows together, begging silently.

"That woman almost touched me." He murmured finally, one hand straying slowly toward Obi-Wan. "I don't want anyone but you touching me."

Obi-Wan resisted the urge to pull away. More and more, lately, he found himself having trouble connecting physically with his apprentice, without being reminded of what he had created. Anakin had become someone else, these past years. Someone who needed much more than Obi-Wan could rightfully give him. He allowed Anakin to take his hand.

"Anakin, you're a public figure now. Sometimes, things like that will happen," he consoled. "They don't mean to harm you…"

"I only want you harming me." Anakin cut in, bringing Obi-Wan's hand up, to touch his left arm.

"Anakin."

"_Please_…" Anakin gently ushered Obi-Wan into a shadowy alcove as he reached into his pocket for that ever present knife. "No one else is here. It's just us…please, master. Help me calm down."

He pressed the knife into Obi-Wan's hand and rolled up his sleeve. The latticework of scars was a slap in the face, and Obi-Wan swallowed the bile rising in his throat. He wanted to be strong…to be able to resist this temptation and to wean his Annie away from the mutilation that had become such a large part of their relationship. But his fingers still gripped the knife, and he still brought the blade down, hard, against Anakin's skin. Once.

"More, Master." Anakin panted, pleading.

"No." Obi-Wan handed the knife back. "That should keep you suitably calm, long enough to get back to the Temple." Anakin looked as though he'd been struck. His eyes widened, and he blanched back, a little. Obi-Wan couldn't help but wonder what this young man might have become, had they not strayed down their dangerous path…

--

When they returned to the Temple, Anakin went to his own room (it usually served as more of workshop, than a bedroom.) and locked himself in. He didn't exit again for many hours, and Obi-Wan eventually sought him out.

Anakin was not there, when he overrode the door lock, and Forced it open. He wasn't sure whether to panic or be thankful that Anakin had left their quarters, without his accompaniment, for the first time in what seemed like ages. However, given Anakin's mental state, when they'd parted company, Obi-Wan couldn't help but feel apprehensive.

If Anakin wasn't here, and Anakin wanted pain…the thought that Anakin would violate their, admittedly sick, bond like that made Obi-Wan cringe. At least here he had someone to look after him, and someone to care, even if it was a little too much.

Pulling on his cloak, Obi-Wan set out to find his apprentice.

--

After hours of searching, he hadn't found Anakin on the streets. When the sun began to rise, and there were still no signs of his wayward protégé, Obi-Wan returned to the Temple, with the intention of finding help. However, all he found was Anakin, fast asleep in their shared bed, tucked away in Obi-Wan's room. He was in his sleep clothes, slumbering peacefully as a babe. It was as though he'd been there all night, and nothing unusual had happened at all.

* * *

_Continued in Chapter Two_... 


	3. Chapter Two

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars.

Author: AubreysMaster and Diena Taylor

Beta: My dear, dear darling, TempleMistress.

Warnings: Cutting, drug abuse, language, sexual content, triggering content.

A Day Late

Chapter Two

"Where did you go, last night?" Obi-Wan asked over breakfast, in what he hoped was a casually conversational tone. He didn't want Anakin to go on the defensive so early in the morning.

Anakin looked blearily up from his cup of caf. "What do you care?" He growled and lowered his head again, clearly meaning the conversation to be over. "Since when do you have to know every little thing I do?"

Obi-Wan tried to release his frustration into the Force. When Anakin got like this, very little could get him out of it. "I am your Master," he reminded gently. "I do worry about you."

"Yeah," Anakin snorted faintly, his expression hard as he stared down into his mug. His tone was flat and just about as close to sarcastic as one, who was vainly trying to veil his emotions, could get. "Worry. Right."

Obi-Wan crossed his arms over his chest. "I would thank you to stop acting like a child, Anakin," he responded, trying hard not to snap. Anakin stood abruptly, causing his chair to clatter to the floor.

"Oh, so now I'm a child?" He exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air. "I see how it is. You just don't want me anymore." Tears welled in his eyes, and Obi-Wan was suddenly struck by how much his apprentice had changed.

"Anakin, that's not true." He protested. It wasn't true, after all. But he still didn't have to like it when Anakin acted this way.

"Prove it," Anakin challenged, rolling up his sleeve.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan argued, looking away from the offered appendage. "I can't. I care –"

"Then why won't you help me?" Anakin yelled, his eyes glistening brightly with tears. "Y-you _never_ want to help me, anymore! But what you fail to remember is that this was _your _idea. _You _started it, and now you want to back out?"

"You think I don't remember that, every single time you make me do it?" Obi-Wan shouted back. His calm resolve suddenly snapped at the accusing tone in Anakin's voice. "You think I don't wish I could take it back? Keep my suffering to myself, instead of giving it to you?" He sat heavily on the last standing chair. "I don't want to hurt you anymore, Anakin."

Anakin let out a shaky sigh. "Then do this for me," he begged. "It hurts when you don't. I can't…I can't do it myself, Master, and I can't… I don't have anything else. Please."

Obi-Wan took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. His heart yearned to soothe his Padawan's suffering, but the larger – more intelligent – part of him insisted that now was the time to be firm, to stand strong, and not let Anakin win this debate again.

"No." He murmured finally.

Anakin didn't make a noise, as he left. Obi-Wan could soon after hear the clatter of something being hurled against a door, most likely at a high velocity. But, as usual, Anakin had presented a very weak verbal argument before he gave up. Obi-Wan knew, eventually, the boy would break and his instincts to please would overwhelm his desire to be hurt. He'd stop asking, and Obi-Wan didn't even want to contemplate what would happen then…even pondering it was painful.

But he had to remain resolute. He couldn't keep hurting Anakin, even if that hurt him in another, non-tangible way. It would be worth it…he hoped.

--

Anakin stalked down the long, narrow streets of the Lower City, his hood raised to not attract unwanted attention. Even down here, he was recognized. It drove him insane. The Hero With No Fear…what a joke. Just the thought of Obi-Wan's betrayal sent a stab of blind terror through him. What was he going to do now?

He wandered for a very long time, before anyone came up to him him. Panic boiled in his chest, until he realized that he was not being approached as a Galactic hero…but as a customer. The dealer was quick and to the point. Anakin put up a valiant mental attempt to refuse…but such things were far too feeble, and they were decaying all the time.

In the end, he left the encounter a good many credits poorer, but with something the dealer promised might – just might – ease his suffering. Anakin knew it was a bad idea. He was being stupid and reckless. But, really, wasn't letting himself be sliced open on a daily basis stupid and reckless too? Besides, if Obi-Wan wasn't willing to help anymore…

He ducked into a dingy bar and headed for the 'fresher, fingering the hypospray that he secreted in his long sleeves. The 'fresher was probably the most disgusting 'fresher on Coruscant, but Anakin didn't care. He rolled up his sleeve, looking longingly at the cross-crossing adornments. Taking a deep breath, he pressed the hypo against the inside of his arm and squeezed the trigger.

--

Obi-Wan had known that he really should have taken it as a bad sign, when Anakin had suddenly started walking out on him. The more the blonde disappeared, the more concern he felt. Every time Anakin came home looking disoriented, or he crashed in his own room, the worry continued to fester until Obi-Wan couldn't stand the silence – the obvious lies – any longer. He resolved to confront his Padawan…if he could get him in his right mind long enough to wring the truth out of him.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan called, knocking gently on the door in an attempt to illicit some kind of response. "Anakin, please come out?" Not that he expected an answer, of course. It was just easier to ask, before Forcing the door open.

He was naturally surprised, when the door slid open and Anakin stood before him, glassy-eyed and swaying slightly. "What do you want?" the younger man asked, moving closer and pressing a hand against Obi-Wan's chest. "Do you want me back?"

"Not in that sense," Obi-Wan corrected, shaking his head and placing his hands over Anakin's. "Not to hurt you. I'm worried about you."

"Worried how?" An odd little giggle escaped the younger man's throat and he leaned against the doorframe for support. "What's to be worried about?"

Obi-Wan squeezed Anakin's fingers forlornly. "What are you doing, when you go out?" he asked gently. "I have my own ideas…but I'd like to hear it from you."

Anakin stumbled backwards slightly. "Nothing. I'm not doing anything. Force!" he exclaimed. "Why does everything I do have to be some galaxy-shattering event?" His words were meant to sound sharp and harsh, but instead they tumbled out in a slurred mess. He grinned, a bit lopsided. "I'm just…figuring some things out, that's all, Master."

"Anakin…" Obi-Wan frowned at him. "You haven't been going out to get…help…have you?" He didn't want to know… Force, he didn't want to know, but he had to!

"Help like you give me?" Anakin cocked his head a little. Obi-Wan nodded. "No!" Anakin shook his head, looking insulted. "No, Master, I'm still waiting for you, for that."

"You won't mind showing me your arm, then," Obi-Wan challenged, trying to make it sound very logical, sweet, and firm all at once. Anakin's expression was torn. He was debating between his defensive base urges, and his learned instincts to obey Obi-Wan at all costs. "Show me, Annie," Obi-Wan urged. "Please?" Anakin shook his head minutely. "I…I'll help you, if you'll show me." It was a low blow, a trump card. But he had to know…

The needle tracks were oozing yellow-white pus. That was all Obi-Wan could think of, for the first thirty seconds, or so, after Anakin's sleeve reluctantly slid up. They weren't cuts. That was the next thing he noticed. They were definitely needle tracks. It took nearly a full minute for the true meaning of that to sink in.

"Oh, Anakin," he breathed, feeling the handle of the knife being pressed into his hand. "Anakin, how could you?"

"You promised, Master," Anakin said, pulling Obi-Wan into his bedroom and sitting heavily on the bed. "You promised."

Obi-Wan felt like his entire galaxy had been torn away from him. Needle marks on Anakin's arm, the glowing-glassy expression in his eyes… No. No, it wasn't true. It couldn't be. Obi-Wan couldn't imagine having let it get this bad.

"You promised," Anakin repeated once more, and it came out in a silly singsong. He tugged Obi-Wan down onto the bed next to him. "I've missed you so, Master…"

Obi-Wan wrapped his arms around his friend and buried his head into Anakin's shoulder. Anakin, meanwhile, went on chirping senseless nothings as Obi-Wan whispered, "I miss you too, Annie." He drew the blade across Anakin's shoulder, and the younger man yelped in surprise.

"Master!" He cried, embracing Obi-Wan tightly. "You did it!"

"Yes," Obi-Wan agreed miserably, continuing to carve halfheartedly into Anakin's shoulder. "Yes, I did." Three strokes later, he stopped and tossed the knife across the room. He hoped against hope that Anakin wouldn't get up to go get it.

Anakin was insane…that was all there was to it. All there could be to it. There were no other explanations. Between the masochism and this, apparently, new drug of his, the stress of the war and everything else, it had driven Anakin Skywalker completely mad.

"I love you," Anakin hummed quietly in his ear. "I love you, Master."

Obi-Wan stroked Anakin's hair, noticing that it likely hadn't been washed in several days. Still, it was soft and Anakin seemed to enjoy the contact, so Obi-Wan remained where he was. "I love you too, Anakin. I just…" He let out a sharp breath. "I don't want you to do the drugs anymore." Anakin looked at him mournfully.

"I can't promise that, Master. Unless you promise me…"

Obi-Wan swallowed harshly.

"You promise first, Padawan." He urged gently.

"It's too late," Anakin purred, running his lips along Obi-Wan's jaw. "Too…too late…"

"Of course it's not," Obi-Wan urged softly. "Let me help you. There are ways…" He didn't know, specifically, what ways there could be for a Jedi, but he knew there would be options open to them. Surely there would be.

"No other way," Anakin sighed, his eyes sliding closed as he nestled his head against Obi-Wan's chest. "No other way. Don't take this away from me."

"Anakin –" Obi-Wan started to protest, only to be interrupted.

"It makes the hurting stop, Master." Anakin stated. "Not lessen. Stop."

"Anakin…"

"It goes away, not like with us. It goes away completely and I can forget…" Anakin sighed again, and slumped more heavily against his mentor. Obi-Wan's grip tightened in Anakin's hair. "Please, let me forget, Master… Let it stop hurting. I won't let it hurt you."

Obi-Wan cast his eyes towards the floor and gathered his apprentice in his arms. This was the time to make a decision. Either he stopped it all, right here and now, or he would let Anakin continue down his path of self-destruction. "Oh, Anakin…" He breathed. Could he stop it? He had let out a wild rancor, so many years ago, and trying to cage it again was going to be little more than futile. "Oh, Anakin."

"Let me, Master. Let me."

"For a while," he conceded finally. "But only for a short while, alright?"

"It's too late." Anakin breathed once more, before sealing Obi-Wan's mouth with his own.


	4. Chapter Three

Disclaimer: I don't own SW.

Cowritten with Diena Taylor.

* * *

A Step Shy_  
_

_Chapter Three_

* * *

It was harder to see than Obi-Wan had thought it would be. Once he'd given his consent, Anakin thought nothing of injecting himself in their common living areas, right in front of Obi-Wan. It was hard to see Anakin – _his_ Anakin – becoming a hollow shell of a person, rounded only by the injections that increased in number by the day.

"Do we have any palli cake?" Anakin asked, sprawled out on the couch with his eyes at half-mast. A half empty hypo of the drug lay on the floor beside him. Obi-Wan supposed he ought to take this as a good sign, that Anakin had any appetite at all. Lately, the younger man had forgone eating in exchange for heightened doses, for escape.

"I could make some," Obi-Wan offered readily, desperate to get some solid food in the boy. Anakin grinned lazily at him.

"You don't mind, do you?"

"Of course not," Obi-Wan placated, giving Anakin a slight smile. It was all he could manage at the moment, with Anakin splayed out like that, his eyes losing a little of their spark, his voice losing some of its life. He hadn't thought it would be so hard to see Anakin in this state.

While he puttered around in the same kitchen, Anakin crept up on him unsteadily. "I love you, you know." The younger man said, kissing the side of Obi-Wan's neck. "More than _anything_."

"More than your drugs?" The words were out of Obi-Wan's mouth before he could stop them.

Instead of the exploding in rage, though – as Obi-Wan had expected – Anakin giggled. "Of course, Master." He replied, wrapping his arms around Obi-Wan's waist and swaying back and forth.

Obi-Wan wanted to ask why Anakin was so untalented at showing his apparent love, but he bit his tongue. Anakin rarely ever left their apartment, but when he did he seemed…amiable enough. It was a step up from before, albeit an expensive one. Could he really argue with that?

"I love you," Anakin was singing the sentiment over and over, and it took all of Obi-Wan's willpower not to bend him over the kitchen table. But, he would not take advantage of Anakin's state. He would never dream of it. Even thought he drugs made his apprentice far more agreeable, Obi-Wan was fully aware that Anakin was unaware of what he was doing more of the time. So, instead of making the younger man prove his love, Obi-Wan continued to make palli cakes.

But Anakin wouldn't let him be.

"Make love to me?" His lover requested, smiling broadly and kissing Obi-Wan's ear. "It's been _so long_, Master…"

Obi-Wan didn't turn, didn't make any move. "Not when you're like this, Anakin," he replied firmly. "When you're sober, I would be more than happy to make love to you." The words hurt him to say, because he kenw what Anakin's reaction would be.

"_Why_?" Anakin cried, staggering back, away from Obi-Wan. He whirled around and Force-flung a few kitchen utensils for good measure. "Why not now? Why is now different?"

"You're not yourself now." Obi-Wan murmured quietly.

"I am too." Anakin corrected. When Obi-Wan didn't answer, he shouted, "I AM."

And that, Obi-Wan found, was more terrifying than anything.

--

"Commander Skywalker?" Clone Commander Cody found himself waving his hand in front of Anakin Skywalker's glazed eyes, waiting for his commanding officer to come back to ground long enough to give his troops a marching order.

For some time, Cody had suspected there was something going on with Skywalker, but neither he nor any of his clone brothers dared to voice such an opinion. Not even to General Kenobi. In battle, Skywalker was flawless, intense, and utterly proficient at everything he put his mind to. In these off times, however…

Anakin blinked, snapping back to at least somewhat attention. He stared at the ground map of Boz Pity for several minutes, trying desperately to gather himself. "Ah…" He stammered, sounding rather helpless. He looked like he couldn't even remember what his plan had been to begin with. "T…talk to Alpha, for now…get some basics down, we c-can…fine tune them later…"

Cody raised an eyebrow, but decided the best way to keep all his limbs in tact would be to keep his mouth shut. "Aye, Sir." With a crisp salute, he went off to find Alpha and to exchange some highly prized gossip.

There had been rumors running around the 501st that Commander Skywalker wasn't exactly all there, mentally. They all followed his lead, of course, and his orders, but ther were some things about the young Jedi that didn't seem to fit in with his HoloNet personal of the Hero With No Fear. Not that Cody paid much into the HoloNet hype, of course, but still. Skywalker was becoming increasingly flighty and Cody was unsure of whether or not to alert General Kenobi.

"He put _me_ in charge?" Alpha seemed highly surprised about this. While Anakin considered the clone a prized partner, second only to General Kenobi himself, since the battle of Kamino when they'd met, he seldom ever handed command over to anyone. "You're sure you had the right commander?"

"That's what the man said," Cody replied with a shrug. "He seemed a little…lost…when I asked him what our orders were." He leaned forward conspiratorially. "Between you and me, I think you're in a better position to be in charge, right now."

Alpha glanced over at Anakin, only to see him slumped over, not moving. The ARC trooper coughed uncomfortably.

"Do you suppose that Commander Skywalker falling asleep on the map reader would warrant informing General Kenobi of the troop's suspicions?" He wondered awkwardly.

Cody scratched the back of his head. "Well, I don't want to start anything, but I don't really want to get killed because Skywalker can't keep his eyes open, either." He paused for a moment. "I say we tell Kenobi. Gently." It wasn't as though the clones were completely ignorant of the depth of Skywalker and Kenobi's relationship, after all.

"I'll be damned if he hasn't noticed already." Alpha muttered, reaching into his belt to comm. Obi-Wan. At least they weren't _at_ Boz Pity yet…just on the ship, on the way there. It would be much worse if Skywalker had fallen asleep there.

Not that Skywalker had let them down before…but lately his…spells…had gotten increasingly worse and longer, and both Alpha and Cody had no intention of getting taken out due to a commanding officer's inability to stay awake.

"Kenobi here," came the voice over the comm. link.

"General, Alpha here, Commander Cody and I wish to speak with you."

"Speak up." Kenobi urged. "What is it?"

"It…it's Commander Skywalker, Sir." Alpha managed to force out. "He's…given up command of this mission and fallen asleep on the map reader, Sir." He paused, waiting for Kenobi to dissect the information. "Is there something we should be aware of? Sir?"

"Medical complications," Kenobi muttered tersely. "Listen, Alpha, if he put you in charge, you're in charge until he or a superior officer tells you otherwise. In the mean time…have someone get him off the blasted map reader and put him to bed?"

Cody and Alpha glanced at each other incredulously. "Uh, yes, sir." Alpha replied quickly, and cut the channel. "What was all that about?" He asked sharply.

Cody shrugged. "You heart the man. Let's get Skywalker to bed."

Anakin didn't so much as stir, as the two clones carried him none too gently to his cabin. Alpha paused outside, before locking the door to the room. It wouldn't keep a Jedi in, but it might be enough to make him not give enough of a flying shit to leave.

"Much as I respect him," he explained to Cody's odd look. "The mission will be better off without him, if he's in this condition through the whole thing."

"Medical complications from what?" was Cody's response. "He looks like he's done ten rounds with glitterstem and lost." He thought about that for a moment. "Not that Kenobi would ever believe that." A shrug. "And I don't think so either, I'm just saying."

"Yeah, we're all 'just saying.'" Alpha snorted.

--

Skywalker didn't bother to make an appearance until the day before they were due to land. He spent much of that time mumbling incoherently into his comlink to Obi-Wan, who was over finalizing things on Rendili with Masters Saesee Tiin and Plo Koon. When he did appear in the mess hall, he looked…rumpled. Not at all befitting of a military commander, Alpha decided, unconsciously polishing his own armor for good measure.

"Sir, how are you feeling for tomorrow?" Alpha asked, realizing belatedly that subtlety was not a characteristic bred into his batch.

"Fine, Alpha," Anakin slurred, patting his clone commander on the shoulder. "Perfectly fine. Do you have the final plans in place?" He grabbed the armor to keep from falling backwards. "I don't know if General Kenobi told you, but I'm just getting over the Corellian flu," he added, by way of explanation. "I'm confidant everything will go according to the plan.

"Uh, yes, Sir," Alpha said, a bit flabbergasted.

--

Alpha explained the plan to Anakin, who nodded politely at all the appropriate places. The ARC trooper had a distinct feeling that he wasn't listening to a word of it. When they landed, however, it seemed like things were going to go fine…until, suddenly, they weren't.

That was the conclusion Alpha had drawn when Skywalker started bawling like a crècheling, upon the appearance of one Darth Tyranus, more commonly known as Count Dooku.

"Do you think we should help him? He asked, running up to Cody, who was currently staring at the sight of the Hero With NO Fear, balled up on the ground with tears streaming down his cheeks.

"Do you think you want to survive this battle?" Cody snapped back. "Go grab him!"

Alpha nodded in bemused agreement, rushing forward to drag Anakin off, while Dooku simply looked as though Skywalker had sprouted an extra head or two, and begun to do a jig. It took a _lot_ to shake Dooku up, too, Alpha knew. Still, he managed to get Anakin back to the transport without getting either of them blown up, and sat him down on one of the benches.

"Stay here, Commander Skywalker," He ordered bluntly, before hurrying back off to join the battle again. Half of him hoped that the so-called Jedi Council of theirs would ground Skywalker, upon their return to Coruscant, until he was back to normal – or at least stable – conditions again.


End file.
